


Insignificant

by Amurtinyburr12



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Damian Wayne is Robin, Robin Torture, The Author Regrets Nothing, The Joker's Traps, bruce jason and tim are just mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-02 19:47:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11516190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amurtinyburr12/pseuds/Amurtinyburr12
Summary: He wishes Bruce were here. Hell, he'd take Todd or even Drake at this point."You can't give up now," The clown sounds almost sympathetic as he echoes the boy's thoughts. "There's so much more you haven't discovered yet!"Damian bares his teeth toward the ceiling, unknowing and uncaring if the Joker can actually see him or not. "You think you're clever?" The boy shouts, eyes narrowing into the darkness. "When I find you, I swear I'll put you in a body cast!"The giggle in response to his threat is expected. "I'd love to see you try, Boy Blunder."





	Insignificant

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trash. I apologize in advance for this fic. I really didn't want to write this.
> 
> Actually that's a lie. Yes I did.

Damian awkwardly stumbled to the left, a wave of nausea successfully disorienting him and causing him to wobble ungracefully into a nearby pillar. He pressed his left hand heavily over the gaping wound in his abdomen, barely restraining the wince that threatened to escape.

"Come on little bird," The Joker's voice echoed through the speakers, his tone playful as if this were nothing but a game.

Of course it was. Know your enemy. The Joker did have the audacity to believe that playing with human lives was simply just a game. Once Damian caught up with him he'd be sure to teach him a little something about attempting to use the heir to the Demon and the son of the Batman as a pawn in his ridiculous schemes.

That is- if he's get's out of here alive.

It's only the Boy Wonder's will power that keeps his knees from buckling and his back from sliding down the pillar till he hits the floor. He just wants to rest. He wishes Bruce were here. Hell, he'd take Todd or even Drake at this point.

"You can't give up now," The clown sounds almost sympathetic as he echoes the boy's thoughts. "There's so much more you haven't discovered yet!"

Damian bares his teeth toward the ceiling, unknowing and uncaring if the Joker can actually see him or not. "You think you're clever?" The boy shouts, eyes narrowing into the darkness. "When I find you, I swear I'll put you in a body cast!"

The giggle in response to his threat is expected. "I'd _love to see you try_ , Boy Blunder."

There's a sharp screech in the intercom, an indication that the clown prince of Gotham has hung up the microphone.

Grumbling curses of horrible deaths under his breath, Damian plants his right hand on the pillar and uses it to steady himself long enough for the quivering in his legs to cease. He wipes at the sweat clinging to his damp forehead. A thin line of it dribbles down over the lens of one of his eyes and he has to blink rapidly to be rid of it.

The vigilante tries his comm link once again though he already knows what to expect. Dead silence on the other end. Something was jamming it, along with his tracker.

It was stupid of him to think he could take the Joker on by himself, Damian was ready to admit that. He'd thought Bruce was weak for not being able to capture him already but perhaps he'd underestimated this particular man. Getting a read on his motives was near impossible. Every opponent that the boy had faced were driven by some goal. 

What did the Joker want?

His thoughts are interrupted when a sudden movement from his right distracts him. A tall metal door creaks open, ever so slightly, creating an unbearable squealing sound. A few green and red strands of light fall through the cracks of a barely opened doorway inviting Damian in.

It's got to be a trap. But, Damian reasons to himself, what does he have to lose?

He pushes forward, gritting his teeth as he strains to reach the foreign room. When he reaches it, it's simple enough to slip between the door and it's frame and face what lies inside.

It's a computer console. A console decorated with buttons and switches all placed below a darkened screen. A label is placed just above the two largest circular buttons. SYSTEM POWER. The first large circular button is red and is simply labeled OFF while the second is green and says ON.

Could it be that easy? Damian doubts that pressing any button will actually result in something helpful to him. The Joker wouldn't be stupid enough to leave this room open to him.

Would he?

The pain in his abdomen sharply reminds him that he may not have a lot of time left. This...whatever this is, Damian is loathe to realize, may be his only chance.

If this control panel does what it says it will do, then the system will be shut down by pressing the OFF button. Perhaps that way his comm link will be put back online.

If he's wrong and this is some sort of twisted trap...

Damian glances around the room, scanning for signs of video cameras watching or bugs listening to him. From the naked eye, he can't see anything. The tech in his mask has long since been broken and all it's good for now is protecting his identity. 

The buttons pulse before him, enveloping him in their red and green glow.

He lifts his right hand, left still clutching loosely at his chest and slams his palm down on the red button.

There's a moment where nothing happens. Then suddenly, the room is plunged into complete darkness and the hum of the machine Damian hadn't even realized used to be there, was gone.

And for a crazy, wild moment he really thought he'd done it.

The console fired back to life a second later and the once dead computer screen lit up with three numbers, blinking red. 3:00.

A countdown. Damian watched in horror as the clock moved down a second. 2:59. Then another. 2:58.

No, no, no, no. He hadn't done this, had he?

He quickly removes his left hand from his side and sets to work pressing every button within reach on the console. One of these has to stop whatever is happening. One of them will.

The intercom revives once more as Damian is flipping a white switch back and forth. "Oh, Bird Boy. You didn't just activate my bomb, did you? After it was such a clear trap you still went and did it? Not the cleverest Robin of the bunch are you?" A wicked laugh follows that, dark and grotesque. "What were you hoping to achieve? You just had to try to take control of the situation. Is that what you wanted? Control?"

2:30.

"SHUT UP!" Damian roars into the air, beating his fist into a small blue button.

There's a sigh, clearly fake as Joker opts to pretend there was no outburst. "I applaud your effort, I really do. But you need to understand there was only one use that machine was for and it certainly wasn't going to be labeled correctly. If you'd wanted to get out of here alive...well you shouldn't have touched anything. Seems you truly aren't fit to be the Batman's partner after all."

Damian tries not to let the words get under his skin as he twists a tiny black dial on the side of the console. The Joker would say anything to get a reaction out of him. He couldn't help but read the truth in those words, biting as they may be. Plenty of others had told him he wasn't worthy to be Robin. And while he never showed that it affected him, each insult did leave a mark. Who was he to argue? He was the one who'd stubbornly gotten himself trapped. He was the one who'd activated a countdown to his own death.

1:50.

"I did have something else in mind for you but this is much better, I'll admit. This isn't nearly as physical as I'd wanted. I was going to go down more of the crowbar route...but I suppose that's a bit overdone. If it's control you seek then go ahead, Robin. Take charge of the situation. Do something to save yourself."

1:30.

And then, a wall to his left is lifted and the room suddenly is much larger than it was. On the other side another glowing button secured to the wall across the room catches Damian's eye. It's has a large black 3 painted on it. A few feet from that is a button labeled 2 and a good distance from that is another with the number 1. He quickly starts toward button with the 1. Perhaps if he presses them in numerical order it will stop the detonation.

"What a shame we have so little time left to enjoy this. We're mere moments from the bomb going off." The madman taunts over the speaker. It's not hard to sense that the Joker is smiling, though Damian can't see him. "I wish we had more time to talk about you, me and Batsy. Where we're going, what all this is for. Dear me, even if we had that sort of time- which," Joker utters darkly, " _we don't_...well I wouldn't even know where to start."

1:09.

Damian makes contact with the first button and begins shuffling as quickly as he's physically able over to the second. One down. Two more. He can do it.

"Watching you scrambling about, trying to take control of this situation is really quite rich. I almost hate to see it go. I'm sure though whoever Batman gets to replace you I can kill even more spectacularly! I'm thinking fireworks next time, what do you think?"

Damian ignores the question and slams an elbow against button number 2.

0:53.

"My goodness, only 50 seconds left. But I'm enjoying this so much." There's a pause as if the man is considering something. "You know what? To hell with it. I'm going to put some extra time on the clock. These are precious additional seconds- time doesn't grow on tree's, Bird Boy."

The countdown goes up 5 seconds.

0:55.

Damian's scowl falls into a triumphant grin as he hits the last button. Number 3 blinks for a moment. And then, to his right, all the way across the room and above the computer monitor another button comes to life. This one is labeled with the number 4.

"You didn't think there'd only be 3 buttons did you?" Joker tuts through the intercom. "That'd be much too easy. 4 is a good number, 4 for all the Bird Boy brats standing in my way, 4 for the times Batsy has failed to keep each out of my clutches and 4 for the number of people I've murdered."

Damian's barely listening as he forces the tears trying to escape his eyes back and he stumbles toward the final button.

"Actually, that last one might be wrong," Joker says conversationally. "Might be 4 times ten. Or one hundred."

The agony from the wound in his chest radiates throughout his body and Damian feels faint. It must be infected- there is no other explanation for the fatigue he's feeling. He can't give up now. He refuses to let this sick bastard win.

"I am the son of Batman," He manages to croak out as he closes the distance between himself and #4. "I will have your head. I will not be defeated by a clown."

"Oh dear me, Robin. You really don't know what you're supposed to be doing are you? Are you guessing? Tell me that you're not just assuming that something in this room can save your life. Look at you, running from button to button, screen to screen, touching every little thing. These colored buttons. No maybe this switch. Perhaps this dial, this door. Everything, anything, something here will save me. But why would you think that, Robin? That I can be beaten? Do you have any idea what I am trying to achieve here?" Maniacal laughter echoes through the building. "You're in for quite a disappointment. Here's a spoiler for you- that timer isn't a catalyst to test you. It's just seconds...ticking ticking and ticking away until your inevitable death."

And that's what Damian fears. If the Joker is right and this combination of buttons isn't the key...

What if there is no key?

Where is Bruce?

0:26.

"I do have my own detonator here with me. You're only still here because I want to watch you struggling here, for every second you're powerless. If you want to control this room that's fine- but first I will destroy it and everything in it. Take a look at the clock. That's barely twenty seconds."

Damian reaches the console and tries to push himself on top of the console so he can reach the button. His arms shake under the pressure of holding himself up and he slams back down to the ground without warning.

"It truly is a tragedy. For all of us really. You'll die of course, and I won't get to see that precious look on your face anymore once you're gone."

0:09.

The blinking of the timer has sped up now, heightening the sense of urgency. Damian removes a bird-a-rang from his utility belt, trying to calm his quaking arm. He prays that this will work. If he breaks the button instead of pushing it in, he has no clue what will happen.

Actually, he does have a bit of an idea.

"Haven't you realized? Every thing you do, anything you try is insignificant."

0:05.

His arm pulls back. Damian inhales a deep breath and releases.

The bird-a-rang slices through the air with deadly accuracy. The curve is planned, and _it works_. It whizzes across the surface of the button, successfully pushing it in but not damaging it. Damian doesn't let the small victory go to his head. His eyes flicker back to the countdown.

And.

It hasn't stopped.

0:03.

"Pity," The Joker chuckles. "I suppose all good things must come to an end. Ha HA HA."

0:00.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll give credit where credit is due. I played this video game today called Stanley Parable. In it, one of the endings for the game is dying by an explosion and the player is running around trying to stop the bomb by pressing switches and buttons. Nothing works. It greatly inspired this fic.
> 
> Hope you liked it! Comments/bookmarks/kudos are greatly appreciated!


End file.
